Day 9 - Around Warrnambool and Port Fairy

Saturday 14 March 2020
Today, there’s a lot of things I can do. But seeing as I’m here in Warrnambool, lets knock over things here first. The immediate priority is to explore around Thunder Point Coastal Reserve and get some exercise. This plan is briefly delayed as I navigate the roundabout outside the Warrnambool RSL and decide to pull over and pay respects at the War Memorial. Warrnambool has two war memorials. The ubiquitous WW1 memorial that’s in the centre of the roundabout and a second memorial between a small dedicated car park and the RSL. This second memorial is rather noteworthy. Usually you see communities adding to the WW1 Memorial for subsequent wars, this is especially common for WW2.  

Post WWI Memorial, Warrnambool

In Warrnambool, their newer memorial is comprehensive and includes a touch screen where visitors can learn more about the various conflicts, peace making and peace keeping operations in which Australians have served. I’m very impressed at this memorial. It appears to have been installed in 2018 and I don’t think I’ve seen another in a regional area that takes such pains to recognise everyone who has served. There’s even dedicated bronze plaques to draw attention to the service of women and Aboriginal people, which historically has tended to be overlooked. I am really glad I stopped.

Thunder Point Coastal Reserve

Moving on to Thunder Point, I enjoy the cool and breeze, check out a couple of information signs and the view of the coastline from behind the wall, which is somewhat limited other than the more distant sea and sky. I follow a lady setting off with her dog along a well-constructed path through the coastal heath. It’s a pretty dull walk but I’m aiming for what looks like some sort of broken-down survey or navigation marker.  The view from this point lets me see the subtle sculpting of the heath by the network of paths. I decide to head back and move on to Pickering Point.

Pickering Point is where I should have come for my walking. It’s got an interesting network of paths and boardwalks and the landscape also seems more interesting. The weather is looking threatening. There’s a colony of penguins protected by Maremma dogs in this general area and it looks like an enjoyable walk, but I figure, I’ve got other things I want to do now and maybe I can come back in the evening, so I move along.

Norfolk Island Pines in Warrnambool Street

Next stop Warrnambool Botanic Gardens. My route takes me back along streets lined with thriving Norfolk Island Pines. Magnificent specimens.

My objective at the Botanic Garden is primarily to check out their Lone Pine. This is a tree that was grown from seeds extracted from a pinecone brought back from a veteran of the Gallipoli Campaign. The original lone pine for which the famous battlefield slaughter was named was destroyed by artillery during that campaign.  

On my way to find the Lone Pine, I follow the path around past the fernery which looks authentically Victorian in design because although rebuilt in 1985, it is a reconstruction of the original built in 1888.  Just outside I am pleased to recognise two red paint brush lily flowers glowing against the bare earth. I’ve been trying to kill a white one since I found it at a plant collectors fair last year.  Of course I have to get a photo of the stone bridge before I leave too. The chatter of the local colony of Flying Foxes adds to the smell and sound of the gardens.

Long Billed Corella

My visit with the lone pine concluded, I head back to the car, delayed by a flock of Sulphur Crested Cockatoos and Long Billed Corellas. Well that’s the morning gone. My next stops are out of town but first some housekeeping. I need petrol so that’s the first thing. I’ve been eyeing off the laser car wash nearby, procrastinating.  I’m going to have to rename Pretty Red Baby Filthy Red Baby if something isn’t done and the dust and dirt every time to touch her or brush against her is driving me nuts. Let's do it. Some advice from the nice young attendant and in now time I’m done and on my way to Allensford to check out Cheese World.  That’s 15 minutes in the wrong direction but my curiosity has been peaked.  

Cheese World Museum, Allensford

A quick walk through the Cheese World Museum, there’s a fair bit here but I don’t have the patience for it today.  Inside, I nose around the cheeses and other products. Marvel at the price of the tiny bottles of Timboon Whisky. Sheesh it would want to be good. There’s not really anything here I want, some nice cheeses but I can buy them in the supermarket at home. That’s good. I can get straight over to Port Fairy.

On my way through yesterday I was intrigued by the signs for a scenic lookout in a spot where There doesn’t appear to be a clear viewpoint. Anticipating the turn I quickly turn in. This layby is next to the river but the view is largely obscured by vegetation.

Straight through now to Port Fairy and on arrival my first agenda is to find a spot for lunch. I don’t fancy eating in so I figure a bit of bakery sampling is the way to go. Parked outside Cobb’s Bakery, I duck in and find they are sold out of French Vanilla slice. Hmm. Oh well, if they’re calling it French Vanilla, it’s probably a hybrid. Not to worry. They also have very large lamingtons and jelly cakes filled with a large amount of cream. They pass visual inspection so one of those lamos comes with me and is carefully stowed in the esky for ron.  As I’m coming back outside a car has parked in the space next to mine and a young woman is has been taking instructions from a very elderly man who’s going to wait in the car. He’s after a vanilla slice but is learning they don’t have any.  Heading across the street to the other bakery doesn’t seem to be under consideration. Hmm.  

I should have known better. Double layer on an otherwise traditional looking Vanilla Slice isn't really a good sign. It's not terrible, but it's not first class either

I am keen to make a comparison so I go across to the Village Bakery and grab a couple of party pies and yep, a vanilla slice seeing as they have one. It passes visual inspection so we proceed to the next step. I’ll cut to the chase and report that the little pies were pretty standard product. I wasn’t fussed with either the vanilla slice or the lamo to be honest. My current rule is only first-rate product should be consumed, especially as I'm on my own. I don’t know how they made that lamo only reach a bin-worthy standard, but that was its destiny later in the afternoon. They need to go pay a visit to Waack’s in Stawell and see what a perfect lamo is like, this one isn’t even playing in the same league.

Port Fairy Wharf

I explore down to the wharf area where charter boats moored along a quiet waterway a fair distance in from the ocean protected from violent seas.  There’s nothing going on at the moment. It’s cool and the weather looks a bit threatening but I decide to go for a little bit of a walk down the street to take some photos. 

Port Fairy, like Warrnambool, has older streets lined with Norfolk Island Pines. Port Fairy retains a more rustic, casual atmosphere that is created by the lack of curb and guttering. It’s amazing what a difference that makes to creating a holiday feel to a place.  I’ve not gone far before I’m standing outside Mills Cottage which dates to 1841. This is a National Trust property and the front door is open. Perhaps I’m in luck. I linger taking some photos and then climb the steps and swing the gate open, not in any hurry. An elderly lady approaches to ask would I like to join the tour she’s about to give. Yes! I would very much.  We settle some confusion about what has brought people here today, there being an out of date flyer circulating that was supposed to have been withdrawn, but it turns out that I’ve just completely fluked being here in the very narrow window of time to see inside the cottage. 

While external conservation work has been undertaken, there is still a lot of conservation work to be done on the interiors. Information is provided to explain the history of how the house came to be preserved.  Probably quite a shock for the most recent private owner, who had sought to build a house and tea room on the rear of the property. Delays for extensive archaeological investigations and then death of the owner and the property was bought by the Victorian Government. 

Mills Cottage, Warrnambool

It’s a tiny cottage so the tour only takes about ten minutes.  Standing outside I’m again invited to come around to see Mott’s Cottage the other National Trust property. A kind local woman offers me a lift with her and our guide and off we go.

Mott’s Cottage dates from 1842 and like Mill’s Cottage has extensions that date from different periods. It is However further along the path of conservation and restoration. With more displays and some very special pieces among the furnishings, our visit over the three downstairs sections and upstairs a couple of people at a time, we’re done in about half an hour. More than one among the visitors comments that they’d be happy to live here.

We aren’t done yet with heritage Port Fairy. Our guide lives in another historically important cottage and it’s just around the corner. We are welcome to come along to see it. As we go we hear about the lengths that local people had to go to, to save these early structures from demolition. At one point, housing desperately needed in the area, the Victorian government agency said that for every house the government built to house those in need of assistance, one of the old colonial cottages had to be demolished. Some people took action like removing certain features from the house so that it was no longer a structure that met the definition that would lead to demo. It’s heart breaking to think of such wanton heritage vandalism on the part of the government. When our guide and her husband bought their house it was just luck that such an important building landed in the hands of people who rose to the challenge and protected it.

I’m now trying to get as quickly as possible back to the wharf to see if there’s enough people still around to make another half hour cruise viable.  No joy unfortunately. It’s disappointing and in some ways I regret my lack of preparation today, but that boat is quite small and social isolating may not have been easy so perhaps this is for the best. I head across to the little museum across the street, pay the $5 entry fee and wander into the nicely designed court room. However, I can’t concentrate and I don’t want to linger reading, so it’s not long before I’m heading back outside.

It doesn’t take long to grab a few quick “tick” shots for the main street. I’m not a shopper at the best of times and that is only more so in these days of the zombie apocalypse.

Killarney Beach, Victoria

I’ve seen on TripAdvisor people report on their visits to Killarney Beach so when the time comes I make the turn and travel the few kms from the highway to its currently quiet parking area. It’s nice to get out and stretch my legs, exploring along seaweed strewn beach. Fantasising about seeing the hooded plovers or pied oystercatchers, realising belatedly I’ve left the binoculars in the car anyway. Never mind. The briefly sampled lamington is binned and I’m on my way again, this time I’m heading for a look at Koroit. Probably wouldn’t have bothered except I’d seen a snippet of the episode of Backroads focussing on the town.

Koroit, Victoria - for some reason they appear to have Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley on the awnings

Along the way I decide I’ll follow a brown sign and this proves worthwhile for the broad vista across Tower Hill State Game Reserve sitting with the surrounding lake in the crater of an extinct volanco. I take the time to pull the binoculars out for a quick look at dozens of black swans feeding. Can’t see much else from this distance.

On another day this would have been a quirky place to explore

Koroit itself seems a fairly pedestrian sort of place on a drive by. Some great bargains for bags of large brushed potatoes on the roadside stalls, but unfortunately I’m not prepared to pop a fifty buck note in the honest box so I head back on my way to Warrnambool with only a quick double take at a strange sculpture garden come shop along the way.  Back in town I stop for a better look at a beautiful and charming sculpture of a seal that is let down by its location and then it’s time to rest. I enjoyed my steak sandwich so much the other day I decide I’ll just get that for room service tonight. It’s good, but not as good as the first time.

Warrnambool

Dismay at Honeysuckle Cottage

I record this favourite family story here to share in trying times when a laugh can help the time go by. 

I think the funniest away from home experience I have had, happened on a day trip.  It was when my sister and I both had small children and not much money. There was a quartet playing in a private but open to the public garden at Mt Wilson in the Blue Mountains near Sydney so my sister and I organised for our husbands to watch the kids and we took off in her car, having prepared a picnic of our favourite things.  It's a couple of hours journey, so along the way we took a break at a mail order nursery I was quite fond of because of the old roses and perennials they stock. Now this nursery was/is a ramshackle place. It is great on painting beautiful word pictures to sell themselves online but in reality it has an overgrown and weedy, never quite established garden with tiered shade houses full of alive but not really thriving plants. It's one crowning glory though was a mature Albertine climbing rose which is so glorious it's worth a detour to see when it's flowering. It has little in the way of facilities.

Now before we go on, you need to know that my sister has always had lots of medical problems and as a result has always been extremely concerned on matters of hygiene. Extremely diligent. No drying hands on the same towel as her husband or children. Really super germ aware.

Anyway, we park the car on the rough dirt slope outside the nursery, enjoying as always the sound of the bellbirds calling in the bushland.  I quickly head over and start browsing. I'm in my happy place. Sis will catch me up, she just needs to go to the loo. The loo is a portable toilet just near the car.  After a few moments my browsing is disturbed by a howl of deepest anguish. “Ooooh nooooooo” emanating from the Portaloo. Naturally, I hurry over. This can only mean one thing, but surely not.  Yes, Sis has dropped the car keys into the Portaloo. I collapse in hysterical laughter, thinking of the torturous process that will be required if my Hubby needs to drive an hour so so each way to retrieve us. Of all the people for this to happen to, it would have to be Sis.  Luckily, the nursery adjoins some messy bushland and Sis has lost no time finding a forked stick.  Now she is headed purposefully back into the Portaloo. Accompanied by a soundtrack of my doubled over laughter,  Sis fishes about for a few minutes. Luckily the Portaloo is not that full. And we call encouraging words to each other as the process proceeds. Soon Sis is thanking God and emerging from the blue plastic key trap, filth coated keys dangling from the end of the stick.  

But now what? How do we clean these keys?  She heads into the little corrugated iron lean-to the nursery calls their Still Room to ask if there’s somewhere she can wash the keys. She’s directed down to a tap in the garden but after hunting unsuccessfully and annoyed that the staff didn’t offer more sympathy or assistance, in desperation she resorts to rinsing the keys in a birdbath – the only water available that she can find in her panicky state. But this is not enough obviously, because what about all the germs on the keys. Sis could not possibly expose herself to these. The keys must be disinfected.  

Things are looking up.  With relief, Sis says “thank God I keep a bottle of tea tree oil in the car” and off she goes to rummage around in her boot (trunk).  Hmm. But how can she retain enough tea tree oil to thoroughly coat the keys? There’s a bunch of keys and not much tea tree oil and tea tree oil is expensive.  A bit more rummaging around in the boot, all she finds is her favourite plastic bag. It’s a limited edition Christmas motif department store number. With a sigh of regret, Sis drapes the plastic bag over her cupped hand and sits the keys in the little basin thus created. Next step, she drizzles the tea tree oil over the keys and uses the plastic bag as a protective sheet as she massages the oil thoroughly over the keys.  Now, tea tree oil is a powerful substance, like eucalyptus oil you can use it to remove sticky glue marks, chewing gum and indelible pen. Sis discovers that it will also breeze through the removal of printed colour on a plastic bag and even compromise the bag itself.  Sis’s brow is furrowed as she satisfyingly works the disinfectant oil across every  possible surface of the keys, but is contorted in horror as she exclaims “oooooh noooo”  The keys are disinfected but now they and her hands are covered in a sludge of potently fragrant red bag ink mush. That’s the end of me for attempts of sympathy through the laughter. I’m wiping away tears.

What now? She can’t dip the keys in the bird bath again because then she’s back to square one on the germ front.  Between my desperate gasps for breath as I battle hysterical laughter. I eventually recall and mention that I think the Still Room sells fancy soap if that helps. It’s REALLY expensive soap. However, this is an emergency, so what can you do. Sis, with keys suspended well away from her body between finger and thumb, strides purposefully into the Still Room.  The guy there has clearly been listening to what’s been transpiring outside.  He passes her a cake of soap and as Sis starts trying to figure out how she’s going to extract her purse without spreading red sludge all over herself and her handbag.  The guy behind the counter lets her off the hook, saying. “It’s on the house. Who knows where your money has been.”

A sheepish thanks, and wry little half-hearted laugh, but the end of the tunnel in sight, Sis goes again in search of water, this time finds the tap, washes up properly and returns, shaking her head and making a visible effort to regain her composure. We check our watches as we resume our places in the car, and continue our journey to the elegant affair at Mt Wilson, both of us laughing at what has just transpired. 

Later in the day, we made our way out through the picnic rugs of raffia hatted ladies holding long stemmed wine glasses of Chardy (chardonnay) to line up to again use some fairly rudimentary facilities. This time it’s what we would call a “long drop” or “dunny”. It’s not plumbed, just deep hole with a toilet over it, inside a small wooden shed of appropriate dimensions. Dropping something in this one would be an irretrievable disaster. Sis has joined me in laughing about it long ago by now, but we drew some looks as we each divested ourselves of every removable item bar clothing - watches, jewellery, handbags handing them off to each other as we take our turn before venturing through that dunny door.

Day 8 - Warrnambool: Flagstaff Hill by day and night

Friday 13 March 2020

I’ve booked three nights in Warrnambool because I’m tired and I need a rest day.  I don’t have an ambitious agenda today. Just to wander across to Flagstaff Hill this morning and then rest this afternoon so I’m in good shape to enjoy the sound and light show this evening.  I have the option to eat in the dining room this morning but I’m sticking with my self-catering. I’m impressed to find a small carton of milk in the fridge, enough for me to have my brekky without dipping into my supply of UHT milk. My room is exactly as pictured on the website, Pretty Red Baby (PRB) is parked right outside my door which is just so convenient. I am really happy with my choice to stay at the Best Western Olde Maritime.

I take my time in the early morning and it’s almost 09:50 when I’m walking into Flagstaff Hill. There’s not a lot of cars in the carpark which is reassuring. To be honest, this pandemic is starting to get a move on in Sydney especially and I’m getting increasingly nervous about travelling about, sensitive to any infractions of social distancing.

My family loved Flagstaff Hill back in 1998. In many ways it hasn’t changed. The entrance though has been enhanced and I’m impressed again at the inclusion of a welcome to country as the opening section of the video presentation.  I’m tickled too, to see they’ve included an image I am extremely fond of and that I bought as a poster on my last visit. It’s frame costing far more than the image, it has hung in a prominent position in my home for all these years. It’s the Falls Of Halladale in full sail, holed and largely submerged against blue skies, with the sea as still as a mill pond. An extravagantly hatted woman is looking back at the camera, seated among a large group that has settled on the grass, watching the ship in its perilous situation on the reef.  Twenty odd years ago, we were told that the captain was drunk and this led to the wreck. It just seemed ironic to me at the time. So much sadness and drama along the coast, thousands of lives lost in terrifying stormy seas. And then there’s the Falls of Halladale, with no loss of life and which should never have foundered.  Now, here or online there’s no mention of anything other than the fog, the navigational errors and the disciplinary consequences for the Captain, his master’s certificate suspended for 6 months. Was drunkenness just a slanderous lie? 

The Falls of Halladale

In the museum I refresh my memory of some things, they’ve pared back the detail I think since I was last here and I find myself able to answer some questions some other visitors are asking among themselves but which isn’t included in the information boards now as far as any of us can see. The Loch Ard Peacock was preserved because yes, it was still in its wooden packing frame, so if memory serves it just got a small chip on its beak, which looks like it may have been repaired now. There’s a couple of new items too, a Minton heron such as was on the Loch Ard and the Carmichael Watch, a very impressive and no doubt very valuable gold time piece which belonged to the family of one of the survivors and was retrieved from the body of her mother.

Out in the grounds I find that there’s virtually no change from 1998. Which is a good thing for a historical village of course. I head first over to the eastern precinct and the huge anchor on the grass. My mind’s eye puts my son on it all smiles for the camera. One of my favourite holiday photos of all time. I read again the attached plaque. Ah!! This is the anchor of the Falls of Halladale! I’d completely forgotten. It was worth coming just for this memory jogger.

The anchor from the Falls of Halladale with the small lighthouse. To safely enter Lady Bay you line up both the lighthouses. 

I find I have no immediate memory of the Warrnambool Garrison either but it slowly comes back to me as I wrack my brains, read the signs and climb up to the observation post on the embankment. Time to head over and make my way around the village, my first stop being the Lighthouse, I am pleased to find there’s no one else trying to share the small space provided in the spiral stairwell.  The Lighthouse Cottage is solid and has a beautiful ambience. Walking through the laundry out to the attached garden and grounds I feel that I’d be very happy to live with such domestic arrangements and outlook. I pause to photograph the peahen and her chicks. Of course, Flagstaff Hill has to have peafowl on the grounds!

Next stop is the Port Medical Officer’s residence. No, actually, give me this one. What a gorgeous cottage and what a beautiful situation within its gardens and the village.

Port Medical Officer's Residence

I make my way around like this, not in any hurry. Pausing to rest on seats here and there. Listening to audio or video presentations where provided. Some of the spaces are a bit dusty and the weather’s changed today and there's a cold breeze.  Paranoia lifts its head. My nose is starting to run. In the dusty shipwright’s building a sneeze. Oh god. Is this Covid-19? How’s my throat? Is it sore? Feel my forehead, do I have an elevated temperature? No. Don’t be silly, you’ve not been in contact with anyone with the virus. You always react like this to cold wind and dusty rooms. The sensation subsides. I move on. This travel in the time of pandemic is becoming nerve wracking.

Boat Builder and Shipwright

The Steam Packet Inn is a wonderful space. I linger, imagining the noise and bustle of the pub in full swing, happy not to have any sort of time pressure. Just to be thorough I wander around the far side of the lake taking a few moments to study the block and tackle set up to show the power of these simple mechanisms used to help hoist sails.

Stella Maria Tea Room,  Merri Street, Flagstaff Hill Warrnambool

It’s time for lunch. I don’t have great memories of my previous visit to the tea room. I seem to recall having one of the worst iced chocolates of my life and the kids tried a hedgehog. Quite an eye opener. It had never occurred to me that anyone would make an iced chocolate with powdered cocoa into cold milk. Yeah, maybe don’t do that people. But silly to avoid the cafe today based on a 22 year old review, so I wander in and seat myself at a small table well away from other patrons. There’s almost no one here either, so it’s no problem keeping well away.  The ambiance of the tea room is truly delightful. The menu has a range of simple options but I go for the cheese and tomato toasty on sourdough $5.50 and I’ll follow that up with a scone with jam and cream, the half serve option being very handy when you’re on your own and also at a very modest price.  

A memorable sour dough cheese and tomato toasty from the Stella Maria Tearoom

The young lass in period dress is the only person here so she mans the desk and prepares the food and drink. When it arrives, I find the sourdough very flavoursome and it’s got to be one of the most delicious cheese toasties I’ve had. Right Up there with the sourdough and Jarlsberg toasty my daughter whipped up in a rest area along the Hume Highway in December on our way to go cherry picking in Young, or the one my friend whipped up for dinner in our apartment in Fremantle that time. Yum.

The scone is retrieved from under the retro fly cover and gets a short nuke in the microwave so it arrives warm and soft. I’m glad I don’t have to ration this little dish of cream over two of them. What a nice lunch.  I pay and thank and head out onto the verandah. Nicely in time for the tea room to close at 13:30 for a function. Well, I think it’s time for a nap. I walk back up the hill and as I’m heading out look back down over the village and realise I’ve not gone in where the volunteer lady is spinning today. I was saving that until last due to my history of getting into long chats with such people. Oops. 

Back down I go. We do chat, but more people start to arrive into the room, which cuts things short and provides incentive for me to get away from these obviously plague-ridden folk. Yes, perhaps this really will be like the zombie apocalypse, I’m starting not to see people, just moving biological hazards who sometimes talk to you and follow you when you step away from them.

With the change in the weather more people have decided that the indoor attractions at Flagstaff Hill seem like a good idea. I just enjoy the cold breeze and the cloud. 16-18 degrees Celsius and cloudy is my favourite travel weather. I’m sick to death of blue skies. I congratulate myself for going to Flagstaff Hill first thing today and make myself scarce for a few hours.

Pippies by the Bay, Warrnambool

For dinner tonight I’ve booked a table in Pippies by the Bay I have had to go for quite an early time slot but that’s my preference anyway. Fine dining is not as much fun as it is with Hubby in tow, but it’s time I had a proper meal. There is one thing about the service that is a bit odd. When they seat you they give you only the drinks menu rather than all menus. They only bring the food menu after they’ve taken your drinks order. This strikes me as rather annoying and inefficient. Why can’t I just get both together. They are quite busy too. I do try to encourage mocktail menus so I go for one of the few options. Yeah. Pretty ordinary. Hmpf. A bit of a rip to be honest.  For food, to start I go for the gluten free Slow Braised Pork Belly served with orange and fennel salad, caramel vinegar and glaze $18.50. After long deliberation my main course is the Eye Fillet Steak and Crayfish Tail which is served with potato and thyme terrine, seasonal vegetables & red wine reduction sauce for $48.50.  Dessert, oh why not. Shall we say Apple and Rhubarb Crumble with Vanilla Bean Ice Cream $13.50. All together a nice meal.  It's too early to wait around for the show gathering time of 8:15, I'm glad I only have to walk back across the street to chill for an hour. 

Nicely balanced flavours in the pork belly starter

The crayfish tails were beautifully cooked

HUGE!

The paranoia is kicking in again as I begin to wonder if I’ve done the right thing booking a ticket to the show tonight. Will I be able to effectively social distance there? How many new international arrivals might there be? In the end after chats with my Hubby and brother I decide to just walk over and sus it out. See what the numbers are like and decide then.  Well, there’s not that many people at all. All Australian accents, so reasonably unlikely to have recently arrived from somewhere with rampant Covid-19. And they are almost all grey nomads. Hells bells, if one of us has Covid-19 here tonight it could be carnage.  But I think these wanderers are very low risk and I really think so am I. I book in with the reception staff and head as far away from everyone else as I can.

Eventually we’re escorted into the video presentation room for a short presentation and then out to the village. This time I notice an anonymous quotation stretched out along the wall “If it is to be man against the oceans then it is the oceans that will surely prevail.” I wish that were still true. We walk slowly with lanterns provided down to the theatre on the far side of the lake past illuminated shop fronts. “Take as much time as you want, there’s no hurry.” 

Flagstaff Hill Maritime Village by night.

The wall of the theatre is hydraulically lifted to expose tiered seating and I wait until last so that I can choose where I sit, nice and far away from anyone else. Maybe not quite as good a view but I don’t mind. The show is well done. The best part is the local Aboriginal history and culture section which is excellent and informative and very interesting indeed. It covers the creation stories and its link to the local landscape. There’s a pretty impressive re-enactment of a whale hunt too, but there’s also pretty good portion that repeats things you learn in the museum or around the village if you’re paying attention.  I’m glad I came along. Again I linger behind the zombie hoard as we make our way out. Another short walk across the road and it’s off to the land of nod in my very comfortable digs.

Day 7 - Shipwreck Coast and Apostles Gourmet Trail

12 March 2020

Pre-dawn there is the lovely sound of rain on the roof. Then the sound of people heading out, presumably to get into position for dawn at the Twelve Apostles. As the sky lightens birds in the garden start their dawn chorus. After a leisurely start to the day I am packed and ready for check out at about ten to nine.  My plan is to work my way east along the Great Ocean Road and then take the 12 Apostles Food Artisans Gourmet Trail.

Port Campbell

Port Campbell is quiet and the day is still cool but heading for a high of about 30C. 

It’s a short drive before the temporary fencing along the road verge announces that Loch Ard Gorge is coming up. When we visited this area in 1998, Loch Ard Gorge was my favourite section of the coast, but we visited in the rain and got all muddled up and parked at the wrong car park then had a long walk to Mutton Bird Island in a vain attempt to watch the departure of the birds. There’s not a huge number of people here, plenty of space in the carpark. I walk out to the shipwreck viewpoint and down a little side branch with a lookout over the Gorge. There’s a couple getting wedding photos taken on the sand, standing in from of the cliffs. We didn’t go down onto any of the beaches last time I was here so I head across and descent what turns out to be a very easy stairway. 

No, not showing you the money shots! Enjoy the surprise when you visit. 

As you come down the first flight you get a view of more of the gorge than can be seen from the higher viewpoints. Wow! This is the must do at Loch Ard Gorge for sure. I take off my shoes and sink toes into the fine, cool sand and explore. There’s an interesting edge to the cliff as though an ancient cave system has eroded leaving the stalactites exposed. Water continues to drip into small puddles beneath the crystal. The vegetation is also arranged in a very pleasing way. Singing Honeyeaters chase each other, perching briefly before darting off again. I’m keen to check the water temperature so roll my pant legs up and head for the gentle waves lapping the shore. It’s cool, but not that cold. There’s another couple and the man seems to be taking his cue from where I’ve chosen to go and take photos. It could be weird having him follow me about but we nod and smile at each other and it’s OK.

Loch Ard Cemetery

Next I’m keen to find the spot that so moved me last time. I look at the map and get chatting with a group who’ve just arrived. I’m walking over to the cemetery in the direction of Thunder Cave and Mutton Bird Island. The path takes you along the edge of the road and as I’m walking a Rufous Bristlebird runs across the road and ducks under the heath. The cemetery is small and many of the graves are more recent than the famous shipwreck that features on signage around the area. However I find one memorial stone erected by one of the only two survivors as a memorial to her parents and siblings who were lost in the wreck. It’s getting warmer so I decide to drive over to the Thunder Cave Car park and seek my favourite spot from there. Trying to retrace steps from last time to track it down. It’s not shown on the maps. I set off down the path but backtrack and take the path to Mutton Bird Island. The path is fenced but it’s not long before I start to hear the thundering crash of surf but all you’re really aware of is being surrounded by coastal heath. 

Taken with my camera as far over my head as I can reach. You can't see anything much from ground level. 

Looking more closely, there’s a large hole where the surf comes in, but it’s mostly out of sight behind the fence. Ah, that’s it. They’ve stopped promoting it. There used to be interpretive signage here. Perhaps the edge is too unstable, perhaps people tend to want to peer over into the hole in a dangerous way, perhaps people find the story too distressing. That's a shame. Only four bodies were recovered from the wreck of the Loch Ard. A number of the others washed into this hole and were unable to be retrieved as it was simply too dangerous. Effectively this location is a grave site. 

Stopping to photograph some small flowers along the path, again I run into my new friend from our earlier conversation, and tell him about the site as I’d promised earlier. We are on chat number three and it turns out they are from Adelaide and are heading East. I don’t really have time to walk down to Thunder Cave, just a short walk back to the car and on to the Apostles. Loch Ard Gorge has taken me about an hour and a half.

The car park at the Apostles is rather large and it’s busy but I don’t have any trouble getting a parking space. I wander through the building, there’s a small shop but it’s mainly just toilets, so nothing to delay my heading down the path and under the road to the lookout. And here we learn again that you should never pay attention to what you first think when you’re tired. When last I was here, you just pulled off the road into the parking area which was immediately behind the lookout on the coast side of the road. It was dirt underfoot and a simple chain mesh fence. Very basic. What has been done here to provide controlled access to higher visitor numbers while protecting the local environment is marvellous. It’s really well done and it provides a VASTLY improved visitor experience despite the large number of people. I don’t feel crowded. 

There's quite an extensive viewing platform constructed at the Apostles. 

The Apostles viewed from the current vantage points are shown to their best advantage. It’s a stunningly beautiful place. I return from the far viewpoint the same way keeping to the view side and find a man who has lifted three of his children over the fence, sat them on some tufts of grass, has climbed over himself while his wife takes their photo presumably without the fence in the way. The baby stays in the pram. I consider for a moment and decide, yes, I am going to have a go at this selfish, irresponsible person. They are finished and he’s lifting the little children back to the side of safety. Clearly he thinks they are just too special to take their snapshots the way everyone else here is doing. So far I have avoided the path marked carpark that heads away from the view, so I wander down there and find a little poetry circle, boards displaying the inspiration the coast here has provided to various wordsmiths. With that I’m done. The Apostles has taken me about 45 minutes. I didn’t read all the signs. I usually skim read them to see if there’s anything I need to know immediately photograph them, and then look at them more closely later.

Despite the signage at the Apostles warning that Gibsons Steps is closed for beach access, I stop at the lookout, which turns out to be fairly pointless, but it doesn’t take long so no worries.

Time for the gourmet trail. I make the turn as the signs indicate and drive for what seems a long while. Of course the mud map online and in notepad form from the various artisans is not to scale.

Gorge Chocolates (and Alpaca wool products)

You have over 12 kms to go before you reach Gorge Chocolates. This is located on an Alpaca farm and the shop has as many Alpaca items as chocolate. They also have a good range of Melbourne Rock Candy in jars. Excellent. . Selections made and purchased and I’m on my way.

Just down the road about 5 kms, is Apostle Whey Cheese. I watch the ladies making cheese through the glass window then wander back to get into the cheese tasting, it’s $1 per person for a sample of all of their cheeses. They have quite a few so it’s good value. I skip the blues and the chili marinaded fetta, but I try the Brie and the washed rind camembert and the rest that are based on a Havarti style of production. The plain is nice. Havarti is my favourite cheese, so it’s unlikely I am not going to enjoy this. The garlic uses granulated roast garlic. It’s the most popular variety and I can definitely see why. Cracked pepper. Mmm, nice. Smoked – clearly they use eucalyptus wood for the smoker. Yes, branches and leave of eucs. Smeared provides just a gentle amount of brine over the skin. When we come to the herb and garlic marinated fetta the lady serving me has a seemingly endless list of excellent ways to use this cheese and the olive oil marinade. This has been a really enjoyable experience. I make my selection and stow them in the esky and head on my way. 

En route to Simpson an echnida is just stepping off the road after its hazardous crossing. I’ve seen other echnidas who’ve ended up as road kill around here, so you need to be careful.

Next stop is over at Dairylicious Farm Fudge. I try a few of the fudges and find an easy winner. Importantly realise when looking in the drinks cabinet that I forgot to get milk from Apostle Whey. I had been regretting only getting one garlic cheese, the lack of milk seals the deal and purchase completed, I’m backtracking!

Now, I travel the dirt road across to Timboon Cheese and Schultz Organic Dairy, turning into the road past an absolutely stunning flowering gum tree.  I seem to recall that the cheese business got bought out years ago from the original biodynamic pioneer in the region. The gardens are beautiful and there’s shady picnic tables under exotic trees. I’m tempted to linger but it’s pretty hot now. I head in. They have a range of lunch items on display along with their cheeses. I take a quick look about. Again it’s $1 for the cheese tasting, but there’s not so many varieties. I pay my dollar and we get started. The lady serving is perfectly pleasant, but the process seems quite rushed here. Not so enjoyable an experience as at Apostle Whey Cheese. After the cheese is done, I’m invited to self sample the local rhubarb products they also support. Ok. They are gluten free. Those I try are delicious. They also have a couple of salami type options on display but those aren’t offered for tasting unless of course you buy one of the rather large sandwiches on offer. I supplement the cheese and condiments with a milkshake to go and I’m on my way.  

My final stop on the gourmet trail is Timboon Fine Ice Cream. A lot of capital has been invested here that’s obvious. They have some interesting flavours. I try ones that are different to what I’ve had from other outlets. Then opt for a double cone of Whisky Cream and Maple and Cinnamon. Very nice. Very fresh cone. You can also buy the gluten free cones here.

Time now to head west. The Arch, The Grotto, Peterborough Foreshore. A stop at the Bay of Martyrs tempts me to head down the path to the sand. Lingering here would be very pleasant indeed, but it’s 4:30 and there’s a way to go to Warrnambool. Bay of Islands is another quick stop but hard to capture in a photograph.

The Arch

London Bridge - after it fell down! The closer span collapsed in January 1990 leaving two people stranded on the outer section. They were rescued by police helicopter. 

The Grotto

The Bay of Martyrs. You pull up right at the view, but there's a walk to get onto the beach.

Originally I intended to stay in Port Fairy, but looking at the options online I decide that staying in Warrnambool might work better for what I want to do. The young woman on the desk is completely professional and very friendly. The room is exactly as pictured online. They even give you a little present of a bottle of water and a chocolate bar as a thankyou for booking directly on their own website. Settled, showered and revived, for dinner I opt to make the short walk to the bar where I have a very nice steak sandwich. The staff are uniformly lovely. This is a great place to stay and the internet is better than I had in Port Campbell, thank goodness.

Day 6 - Cape Otway Lightstation and the track to Parker Hill

I’m so tired this morning! It’s tempting to stay put here for a day and just chill out. I make progress on the trip journal until my daughter calls and we talk. I pack up and load the car in no rush. No huge agenda today. The car is dusty. I look around for a hose without success. After heading to Apollo Bay to top up the petrol and clean the windscreen properly I’m on my way to Cape Otway Lightstation. 

Having completely missed Maits Rest I make the turn to the south. The forest is different than I expected, tall stately trees give way to shorter ones and after a while I come to open fields and a forest of dead trees “all tragic to the moon” as Dorothea McKellar would say. I wonder what’s killed them all. Not ringbarked surely, perhaps fire?  

A narrow entrance way and a short drive further brings me to a very busy carpark. I almost give up but spot a place where someone is leaving. Luckily I seem to have arrived as the earlybirds are departing. I line up to pay and notice the no backpack rule, so save myself some grief by going back to the car and swapping back to my handbag. Now just after 11 am, I am advised to quickly take the staff only route on the map to the historical talk which is just getting underway. I hurry down the gravel track encouraged on my way by a staff member who lets me know it’s not long now.

The little hut is full of people mostly sitting on benches around the edge of the room. There’s a little scrum near the door and just outside the door. I make my way across the open floor to a remaining bench and settle in. The talk mainly covers the information that is arrayed around the room on information boards but there are a few embellishments in the discussion of the bounty immigration schemes back in the day and the motivation for people to emigrate. Essentially, overpopulation and the agricultural and industrial revolution. Many people were sponsored by the government to relocate to the colonies. Within these broad brush drivers for immigration there were, of course, nuances for individual circumstances. Some people came out for their health, particularly from the heavily polluted industrial areas and cities.  The talk lasts about 40 minutes. Next talk is at noon in the Aboriginal learning area. Not sure of my way, I decide to head over and grab a seat. There’s still about 10 minutes to wait but I talk with the educator (sorry his name escapes me) about the Otways and the waterfalls. Although Aboriginal people used rainforest resources they didn’t live in the rainforest in this area and they have not discovered any Aboriginal names for the various waterfalls. The local song lines run up to Gariwerd (The Grampians). So I ask about the reasons that would prompt a journey from between Gariwerd and the coast here at Cape Otway by the local Gadubanud clans. It may be for example undertaken as part of the final stages of initiation and to meet the neighbours.

Eventually the official talk commences and there’s a pretty good number of people present. We learn about the different language groups within the broader Gunditjmara people. We are led outside where we learn the many uses of a range of plants that have been planted around the learning place. Lomandra longifolia (a woman’s plant, men won’t touch it), seaberry saltbush, dianella and my personal favourite – kangaroo grass. The seeds of Kangaroo grass, wattles and the lomandra were mixed to make a sweet bread or biscuits. Kangaroo grass seed has 4 x more nutrients than the grain we now use for baking. We move on to pigface, short leaved clematis, kangaroo apple… it’s a long long list. We even learn that snakes won’t go under casuarina trees so it’s a safe place to leave your baby. We taste various native plant foods, warrigal greens, lemonade bush berries, native rosemary. The talk runs for about an hour and a quarter.

Cape Otway Lighthouse and race in a break in the foot traffic

Bidding our farewells, it’s now well and truly time for lunch so I head across to the café. There’s three savoury options, I go for the bacon and egg on Turkish and am handed a buzzer which I take to a seat in the shade and breeze outside, it’s a warm day and both are welcome. Done with food for now I contemplate next steps. I’ve been sitting watching the swarm of humanity buzzing around the lighthouse. After all the stairs and steep slopes yesterday I’m not sure I can be bothered. Eventually shattered Snodge summons the energy to walk down the human “race”, this is a long fenced pathway leading to the lighthouse door. I peer into the entrance of the lighthouse, briefly tussle with some Covid19 crowd aversion, and step inside. Well. I have climbed a lot of stairs in lighthouses, monumental towers, castles and such and I am absolutely delighted and impressed by the Cape Otway lighthouse. 

The internal stairs, Cape Otway Lighthouse

A plaque on the central stonework describes the construction. No mortar was used by the stonemasons. Every stone is hand carved and unique. Well, the budget may have blown out after the Public Works department took over construction but my goodness you can certainly see they did an outstanding job. The risers on the stairs are quite low making the climb to the top barely noticeable from a cardio point of view. What a dream. Up in the light chamber all around the walls are beautiful brass ventilation fittings, necessary for the days when the light was produced by burning whale oil or kerosene. The lighthouse attendant reminds me to grab a hold of my hat (thanks) before stepping out onto the balcony. The views are nice, a little better than from the bests ground level vantage points but the breeze is very welcome. I don’t hang about, there’s a steady steam of people emerging anyway so easier to leave them to it. The attendant is performing a traffic control function now. When the way is clear we turn and climb backwards down the ladder to the stone stairs. The width of the stairs is comfortable too enabling people to pass one another.

My next objective is to check out the whale education area and the WW2 radar station and the nearby viewing and whale watching points. I enjoy a gnarley old shrub and the Brown Thornbills hopping about. The whale watching position has useful signs for identifying the various whales that frequent the waters below.

Only the Telegraph Station to go now. I walk down another tunnel of shrubbery to avoid the head and sun. The Telegraph Station has beautiful wide verandahs. It’s the pretty standard thing for a telegraph station with some individualisation in the discussion of the schooling and personal lives of inhabitants here. There’s cabinets of flags for communicating with passing ships and a poster showing the international flag meanings. The layout of the building is great, I imagine it would be a very convenient arrangement to live with if you had it to yourself. I happily photograph the plan they have erected in the hallway.

Parker Hill and Point Franklin Track

Time to get on the road. I walk down to the exit and am soon back in the car and on my way out to the Great Ocean Road. But wait. I’ll just turn down to Parker Hill to do a bit of a reccie. This road is unsealed and very sandy and I nervously travel along admiring the beautiful bushland in this section. It’s a very pretty little drive. Purpley pink orchids shine prominently by the track in one spot. I make it to the campground with no problem. Go over and check out the national park sign with information about walks here. No short options and I’m not up for something hours long. Time to head back to the main drag.

Dipodium Roseum aka Rosey Hyacinth Orchid or Pink Hyacinth Orchid

It’s quicker going on the black top but it pays to be careful. I come across a couple of cars and seemingly dozens of people standing in the road craning their necks and looking excitedly to the tops of the trees. Koalas I suppose. I wait for a woman to get off the opposite side of the road so I can at least get past and am on my way again, only to find some more people doing the same a bit further on. I look up as I pass slowly and sure enough a little huddle of fur sits in the crook of a branch, sleeping. No need to stop. I’ve seen enough koalas in the wild.

Johanna Hill Lookout

Next stop is the lookout at Johanna. This is a very quick exercise of walking up a short path for views over pretty sandy beaches with not a footprint on them. All business now until I arrive and miss the turnoff for Gibsons Steps through procrastination. Ditto the Apostles and other features along this road. They will have to wait for tomorrow, for now I need to nab myself a place to sleep. The drive along this feature packed section of the Great Ocean Road is spoiled by portable fencing that has been erected to stop people parking and no doubt trampling the vegetation. This place is obviously being loved to death. I’m glad we visted over 20 years ago and saw it before it became so popular. Problems due to lack of toilet facilities seem pale in comparison.

It’s still about 28C when I get into Port Campbell. There’s a lot of smoke in the air and people are paddling at the pretty and protected little cove that provides a town beach. Rooms available are thin on the ground but I manage to land a room after going in to question their prominent no vacancy sign outside reception. Oh, forgot to take that down. Glad I asked!

Dinner is a makeshift one in my room as I download photos and try to upload and publish the journal. The internet is very slow, perhaps throttled after I uploaded the photos. Anyway, time to sleep and I certainly need it.